Arsenal Tour 2012: Kuala Lumpur

Arsenal were in town recently, arriving into the hot and humid city last Sunday. I wasn’t among those waiting for them either at KLIA or hotel, nor was I at the fans party or hanging out where they went (in other words, stalking) at the SMK Seksyen 11, Shah Alam, or Batu Caves.

I was, however, at the match on Tuesday evening. I arrived ten minutes to 9 pm and went to perform prayers first (Isya’ tarawikh and witir, the whole works). Then only did I make my way to the stadium.

The stadium was nowhere as full as it was last year, in fact most areas were glaringly devoid of spectators. On my way to the red gate, I came across a few touts selling tickets, or rather trying to sell tickets. (I found out the next day that a colleague’s son was offered two RM58 tickets by his primary school teacher. Say what??).

Unfortunately, the players’ boxes were in my line of sight so I did not have a very good view of the match. In fact, I had to rely on the large screen at times. I paid a fortune for the ticket and wasn’t happy with this obstruction but well, I can’t win every time eh. What struck me was there were a lot of kids there. Man, I had to close my eyes when I paid for my ticket. These kids must be seriously loaded. The girl next to me was paying more attention to her smartphone than to the match (I noticed she was checking out the club website for players’ profile/stats. Eh?)

I don’t want to comment on the match too much seeing it was just a pre-season friendly. I do have some observation/thoughts. The Malaysian goal was a beauty, so gorgeous we all stood up to applaud it. Arteta took a lot of corner kicks, sadly none were duly converted. Ryo worked hard, chasing after the ball. Yennaris, Eisfeld and Iggy are very promising. As usual Arsenal were trying hard to provide me prolonged anxiety and give me a heart attack.

I want to comment on the stadium security check though. They had people checking our bags to make sure we didn’t bring in any food or drinks but they allowed people to smoke in there?? What’s the catch? The fact was there were people inconsiderately puffing away in the stadium and the ones who were determined to make me a second-hand smoker were scantily-clad females. But what did I expect from these ignorant anyway. They didn’t even respect the sanctity of the month of Ramadan what more fellow human beings. If they couldn’t respect God, I guess it’s too much to expect them to respect others too.

Why can’t Malaysians have more respect and consideration to others? This behaviour won’t be tolerated elsewhere. Arsenal, for instance, have strict rules about what one can bring to the stadium. No smoking at the Emirates Stadium and only food and drink within reason is allowed. Aluminium cans and alcohol are a big no-no. Why can’t we enforce the same? Why should I be made to suffer just so that some idiot can puff on their cancer sticks? Why???

I was at the Singapore National Stadium when the Kops came to Asia and as far as I can recall, no one smoked. Why can’t we be like our neighbour in terms of enforcement? Is it so difficult for the stadium management or security to put their foot down and ensure everyone who attends a match adheres to set rules?

We can talk until the cows come home about being a developing nation but if we can’t even have basic courtesy, thought and consideration to our fellow citizens, then are we really developed? Can our country consider itself a developing country if its citizens can’t even be bothered about taking care of the country, about not littering, about disposing of their rubbish thoughtfully, about queuing up, just to name a few?

Oh and by the way, back to Arsenal. As much as I love Arsenal and was very happy when they came, I couldn’t help wondering why some players were even included, namely those players on the verge of leaving. The likes of Mannone, Chamakh, Fabianski... And then those new kids on the block are missing. Giroud, Poldi even Per are conspicuously absent. Oh well. Guess it’s the prerogative of the Boss.

By the way, I have a new love now. He’s Spanish too. Move over, Cesc! And no, it’s not Arteta. I do like Arteta but I love this other guy more. Add him to my other loves: Ramsey, Poldi, Giroud, Eisfeld... Spanish, Welsh, Polish German, French, German...what can I say, I have European taste, that’s all.

The Gunners arriving at the hotel
Him!!!

At the party

Death Is Nothing At All

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral

~~~~~~~~

I miss Mummy but especially so these days. I don’t know why. I miss her so, so much. I’d like to think that death is nothing at all, that death is not to be grieved over like I mentioned before for it is inevitable anyway, and I want so badly to just remember her without feeling sad and unhappy and without the accompanying pain... but it’s not as easy as it’s made out to be. I hope one day soon I will be able to deal with her passing and not feel so alone. I’m trying but it’s not easy.

I miss you terribly, Mummy. Every single minute, every single day.

Take Care

Mummy and Abah always said/say this to me: Take care of yourself. This is usually said whenever I’m about to embark on a new trip or when I was going back to micasa when I still lived there, when I still had my other life.

Take care of yourself. Such a simple expression and yet it encompasses a great deal. I interpret it to mean to take care of my physical being, my safety, my health, my dignity and pride and virtue.

Take care of yourself. That was the last thing Mummy said to me too before she left me for good. And now I will never hear her say that again. Ever. But I shall remember her words and try to do as she wished.

~~~~~~~~

There’s a recent spate of crime especially in the Klang Valley of late. I heard and read of horror stories of girls being attacked at car parks, of being abducted before being able to escape, of snatch theft attempts, of real attacks. In fact, exactly a fortnight ago today, a friend had her car passenger window smashed when she was stopping at a light on her way to work. The perpetrators escaped with her handbag and her new smart phone.

So girls, let’s take good care of ourselves. Of our safety. Of our dignity, pride and virtue. Because as unfortunate as it has become, we can’t rely on guys to protect us anymore. Not when they are the ones who attack us. Someone said we should be afraid. Be very afraid. This in the sense that we should walk in pairs, and not walk off alone especially in dark, remote places. Exercise judgement and common sense. Be wary of our surroundings. Be alert and suspicious. Have something in hand – your car keys or pen or brolly to ward off attacks or to protect yourself. Inform your loved ones and close friends when you’re going somewhere so they know where you are. I am always asked to do this whenever I go on trips. The funny strange thing is my parents trust/ed me more abroad than in Malaysia. Now do you see why?

And yes, recite prayers when you are out and about. We can do all we can but ultimately, God is our best saviour. He will protect us and help us but we also must help ourselves first.

So do take care of yourselves, gals. Let’s not give in to the bullies. Let’s not be part of the statistics. I’ve had my bag snatched, been pick-pocketed and had my house burgled, and I still feel angry when I thought of how I was ‘violated’.

~~~~~~~~

There was a mini health fair here recently. I went to check it out and noticed there was some health check. So I gave my name and joined the queue. After checking my blood pressure, I went to a scale. The guy manning the booth adjusted the machine and then told me to step on it. You’re supposed to hold up your hands and hold the handles, not unlike someone who’s jet skiing. Then the machine does some calculation and you can step off.

Pretty simple stuff, eh.

The machine is actually pretty sophisticated and can calculate your % of body fat, your body mass index (BMI) (you need to let the guy know your height of course), your weight, muscle level and last but not least, your biological age. I was relieved that my readings came out alright (no high blood pressure despite just finished a meeting with the horrible internal auditors) and that my biological age is years younger. Alhamdulillah. Feeling curious, I stayed on to see if the machine was all that great.

The lady after me stepped up. Her blood pressure was higher than normal and sadly, all her readings were out. And get this: she’s 39 but her biological age is 53. Is that scary or what? I’d be freaking out too if I were her.

Now, please don’t think I’m looking down on her because I myself still have a lot to improve in terms of taking care of myself and my health. I’m just using her example to tell you that that is what would happen if you don’t take care of yourself, if you don’t watch what you eat, if you let your body deteriorate, if you neglect your health. Every organ in our body deserves to be healthy and if we don’t take care of our organs, our body and our health, they will deteriorate from the neglect. Rot away. And then it’d be harder to get ourselves back on track.

Do you want to be much older biologically than your real age?

If not, then do start taking care of yourself. We all have a responsibility to the body that God gave us to live. Like they say, prevention is better than cure. Your body will thank you for it later and your family will be happier if you live a longer life of better quality.

It saddens me when I see people neglect to take care of themselves. Don’t they love themselves? Or do they think it’s love when they neglect to take care of themselves? Please, it’s not love. It’s more like abuse and neglect. Eat better food, organic if you can; rest well; get enough exercise; apply sunscreen and/or use the brolly/hat when you go out; drink lots of fluid; think positive; get enough nutrients or take supplements if you don’t think you are getting adequate nutrients; cut down on red meat; quit taking toxic food... these are some of the ways we can start taking care of our health and bodies. I’m no expert nor a nutritionist or dietician but there are a lot of online articles out there. Equip yourself with the knowledge of the food that is good for you.

It’s never too late to start taking better care of yourself. Come on, we owe it to ourselves and God to take care of ourselves, inside and out.

Trip to Ilocos Norte and Ilocos Sur, the Philippines: July 2012

I was pondering where to go on my birthday this year and finally decided to revisit Manila. Contacted my mate, Andrea, and she suggested some places to visit. In the end, we agreed to go to Ilocos Norte and Ilocos Sur, two provinces on the north-west of the Luzon island. Ticket to Manila was bought in February while the ticket to Laoag was bought in May by Andrea. Andrea had informed that her friend, Din Din, would be joining and later on managed to persuade her sister, Abi to come along too. Andrea also arranged a driver to ferry us around and accommodation at Vigan in Ilocos Sur.

Friday, 6 July 2012 (yes, my birthday)

I left for the airport at 3 pm today. I had ample time before boarding so decided to check out the duty-free stores at KLIA. There was some renovation to the airport stores with new brands to be added soon. I ended up having to drag myself away from the bargains. My flight out was supposed to take off at 1730 but we had to await clearance from the Air Traffic Control. It was not a full flight and yet I was assigned seat at row 27 so the minute the door closed, I moved 5 rows to the front. We finally took off at 1745. I managed to finish one novel and feeling bored, started writing a new blog entry (see last post). We landed just before 9.30 pm and I noticed that the ground was wet. I rushed out and headed for the immigration. I remembered having to queue pretty long on my last trip here exactly two years ago and was keen to avoid that. Even if I couldn’t do anything about the queue, I could at least ensure I joined it early.

Well, I needn’t have worried. There was no queue at all, I was served quickly and my bag even emerged on the conveyor belt early. I headed out and walked to the metred taxi area. You can take a metred taxi or a fixed coupon taxi (at PHP450 I think). Andrea had advised me to take a fixed coupon taxi as sometimes the metred taxi will bring passengers on a joyride to squeeze out money from their poor victims. I had PHP360 left over from my previous trip - I had arranged to change money with Andrea – so I decided to take the risk and ride a metred taxi.

The cabbie wasn’t familiar with the hotel location so he drove slowly when we got to Arnaiz Street. We finally located it after asking a security guard. My fare came to PHP378 (I’m not sure how he counted that as a different number was shown on the meter but hey it was still less than PHP450 had I taken a coupon taxi) so I gave him all the pesos I had and RM10 thrown in too. Good thing he accepted it. Bad thing was I was literally peso-less.

I checked in and settled in for the night.

Saturday, 7 July 2012
Andrea had informed she would come over at 0930 on Saturday but she texted to say she was running late. She and Abi arrived at 10 and we went to nearby Glorietta. I wanted to check out the book store (there was a good sale when I was last in Manila so I was hoping there’d be a similar sale this time around) but there was no sale at all. I was disappointed and went to window-shop instead while waiting for Andrea and Abi to have their breakfast.

We left after 11 and drove to the airport (Terminal 3). You see, Manila has three airports (terminals) all serving different destinations or airlines. Amazingly all three are in the city. And this of course contributes to the traffic jam. Terminal 3 serves Cebu Pacific and Air Philippines. Andrea had already checked in online for us so we went in. I was pleasantly surprised to find a prayer room there and I also saw a lot of Muslims at the airport.

We were the last to board the plane. The flight took a while to lift off and, having had a poor night’s sleep, I dozed off before long.

We landed at Laoag Airport (Andrea informed that it’s an international airport as it serves flights to Taiwan and southern China as there is a casino in Laoag) at 1335. We didn’t check in any bag so we made out of the terminal to find our driver. The driver drove promptly along and we boarded it. We drove first to Laoag city and the driver, having been informed we wanted to have lunch first, brought us to La Preciosa restaurant. I like the ambience of the resto but we waited too long for our food. We weren’t that famished but were keen to push off as we had a long drive ahead so we were a bit restless at having to wait.

We finally left after 3 pm (!) – we spent less time eating than it took to prepare (and we only ordered vegetarian dishes too) – and drove to Marcos’ birthplace in Sarrat. The former president is still referred to reverently in this region. We spent a short time there before driving off to Santa Monica church nearby, the biggest church in Ilocos Norte. We left after 20 minutes.

We drove on and when I woke up, we had reached the Marcos Museum and Mausoleum in Batac. We managed to get the guard to open the door for us. The mausoleum is where the glass-entombed, preserved corpse of the deposed president Ferdinand Edralin Marcos is laid to rest. The room was dark with some piped music and full-blowing air-condition. There was a strong scent of flowers (I remember wondering how much it’d cost to buy fresh flowers every day!). Photography is not allowed (but you can Google for the picture).

We left soon after and drove on to Malacañang of the North aka the White House of the North at Paoay. This used to be the official residence of the former President Marcos and family when they were in Ilocos. There was a grand staircase leading to the President’s bedroom, Imelda’s bedroom (I was surprised to note that they didn’t share a room especially considering the size of Marcos’ bed), their daughters’ shared room, dining area and the various bathrooms and dressing rooms. The palace overlooks Paoay Lake and the President’s room has a good view of the lake. We spent 20 minutes there.

The Paoay sand dunes are nearby so we headed there. I wasn’t too keen on riding a 4x4 vehicle (PHP2,500 for an hour or PHP1,800 for half an hour). It was getting late so we decided to push on.

We continued our journey to Church of San Agustin aka Paoay Church. The church is a UNESCO World Heritage Site as one of the best examples of ‘Earthquake Baroque’ architecture. I think this means the church was primarily designed for earthquake protection. Indeed, the coral stone bell tower stands at some distance from the church for earthquake protection. Philippine bell towers were constructed at a distance from the main church structure to avoid its falling on the church during earthquakes. There was a wedding ceremony in the church so we only peeked in.

We then went to Herencia Café, famous for its pinakbet pizza. In fact, we ordered two pizzas: one mushroom with cheese and one pinakbet pizza and they were sooo good. So, so good, they were literally gone in 60 seconds. Actually, I think they were gone before 60 seconds were up. Yes, they were that good.

We left twenty minutes to 7 pm and drove on to Vigan in Ilocos Sur. Robert the driver had told us it’d take us 1.5 hours to get there and it took exactly that even taking into account the bad roads particularly at two stretches. We checked in at Villa Angela. This was where Tom Cruise, William Dafoe and some others spent the night while filming Born on the Fourth of July in the vicinity in 1989. I chose the single bed without thinking; otherwise who knows I might have slept on the same bed Tom did. Heh. He’s still eligible now that he’s single again.

We went out after 15 minutes and walked to the nearby Mestizo District, the city’s old town. It contains the largest concentration of ancestral homes and other colonial-era architecture. As it is one of the few Hispanic towns left in the Philippines and well-known for its cobblestone streets, a unique architecture that fuses Philippine and Oriental building designs and construction, with colonial European architecture, Vigan is unsurprisingly designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I love the buildings but am never good at taking pictures at night.

After 35 minutes, the others decided to look for dinner. Still feeling full, I decided to go back alone to the guesthouse. Not to worry, it’s a safe old town and our guesthouse was only five minutes’ leisurely walk away. I stayed up watching the Wimbledon women’s single final.

Sunday, 8 July 2012
I woke up after 4 am today to perform prayers and went back to sleep. Sleep didn’t come easy after that though and I had to be up again at 0715. We had breakfast at 8 and then drove to Syquia Mansion, which is the house of former President Elpidio Quirino (the sixth President of the Republic). It was closed though so we drove on to the market. The market was a covered building with at least two storeys (I had in mind an open air market). We didn’t stay long though. Robert agreed to bring us back to Mestizo District and I was very happy as I prefer taking pictures during the day. We stayed there for about 45 minutes, including souvenir shopping.

We then made our way to the bell tower of the Saint Augustine Parish Church aka Bantay Church in nearby Bantay. The Bell Tower is atop a small hill and overlooks the stunning view of the mountains of the nearby province and the South China Sea in the far distant. During World Wars I and II, the belfry was used as a watchtower for invading enemy forces. Our ‘guide’ had great fun with our cameras, pointing us spots to pose. We spent half an hour there.

We continued on our journey and an hour later, reached Juan Luna Shrine in Badoc, Ilocos Norte. The shrine is a reconstruction of the two-storey house in which the patriot and foremost Filipino painter was born (the original house burned down in 1861). Luna was the son of Joaquin Luna and Laureana Vovicio and was instrumental in placing Philippine art and culture on the world map. Indeed, I was impressed with his paintings which have deep meaning and depict the hatred and fight against the Spanish rule. We stayed just short of an hour before moving on.

We stopped at a small roadside stall selling garlic, shallot and the local vinegar. Abi explained that each province has its own vinegar, produced from the main crop. (Andrea and Abi also later explained during dinner that night that the Ilocos regions are reliant on agriculture but the soil is not as fertile as the soil elsewhere. Hence, the residents are very careful with money. As most of them are farmers or descendants of farmers and as the region is more exposed to the bright sun, they are mainly dark-skinned. The regions also receive fewer foreign tourists compared to other regions). Andrea and Din Din bought some garlic to bring home.

We drove on, passed Laoag and headed north for Cape Bojeador Lighthouse in Burgos. We climbed the lighthouse spiral staircase half-way before turning back (we were not allowed to climb further). We stayed about fifteen minutes before resuming our journey.

Our penultimate pit-stop was the Bangui Wind Farm. There are 20 units of wind turbines there. This is one of the most northern-most tips of the Philippines. We stayed for another 20 minutes before getting back on the vehicle for the drive back to Laoag.

Our last stop was the sinking bell tower of Laoag (as it was built on a sandy foundation). It was the briefest of stops and we were off again for the airport.

We checked in and waited for our plane to arrive from Manila. I went to perform prayers at the nursing room while waiting. It rained while we were in the terminal and stopped just before we boarded so we stayed nice and dry.

We landed at Terminal 3, Ninoy Aquino International Airport at 1930. Andrea drove Din Din back to her house and then the three of us went to have dinner at Little Tokyo. Then Andrea drove me back to my hotel.

Monday, 9 July 2012
Well, all good things come to an end and that includes this journey. I woke just before 5, showered, performed prayers and had breakfast. I went down at 6 and Andrea and Abi had just arrived too. Only 6 am and there were already a lot of people on the streets all busy heading elsewhere. We drove to Terminal 1 and reached the airport in 20 minutes. I bade them farewell and went inside to check in.

The flight took off on time and we landed to a wet Klang Valley at 1115. I was back in the office at a couple of minutes to 2. Boo!

Hmm, now where shall I head to on my next birthday? It will be just the last Syaaban weekend then too.

Not Strong Enough

Why do I support Arsenal? I don’t think I can give you an exact answer to that. It’s a combination of factors: the classy club, the name, the manager and the various players who had played for the club. It’s a little bit of everything and it may not be a satisfying enough answer but what I do know is that I love Arsenal very much. I love Arsenal so much that I couldn’t talk for some time when I was too angry after a defeat. So much that my eyes swell when we win and whenever I watch highlights of a successful match. So much that I schedule my weekends and some weekday nights around it. So much that I tweeted to Arsenal after defeats telling them how I feel (I always believe in letting it all out instead of bottling it inside). And I love Arsenal so much as demonstrated by all the tangible and intangible investment: time, emotional and financial too of course.

When I say I love Arsenal, that is just what I mean. I mean the club, the team, the people behind the scene who manage the club from Ivan to Colin to Stuart (I draw the line at the shareholders) and of course our brilliant professor. By extension, I love the players too, some more than others because I’m partial like that - just like everyone else.

It’s fans like us who religiously follow the club, who defend it and who shout at it in our fit of anger who are loyal to The Arsenal. Players come and players go, managers come and managers go, shareholders invest and they divest but the fans remain steadfastly loyal. We care and we love and sometimes we care and love too much. That would explain why we can be angry when things go wrong, when things don’t go exactly as we plan or hope, when the team goes through a shaky patch and the injury list grows longer. It’s like there is this thick umbilical cord tying us (well, me at least) tight to Arsenal and we don’t let go even though it’s probably wiser for us to do so. We are committed wholly, whole-heartedly, voluntarily and inevitably.

So that the dust has now settled somewhat following Robin’s shitty statement that hit the fan last week. I was angry, hurt, livid and felt betrayed. I felt like my heart broke into smithereens and I tell you, I don’t easily forgive people who break my heart like that. My heart broke and sank but this time (from experience I could well do without), I didn’t cry. Because he is not worthy of my tears.

So Robin said he couldn’t reach an agreement with how the club should move forward? What bollocks. Is he saying that Podolski who’s played 100 matches for Germany has moved backwards by signing with Arsenal? Is he implying that Giroud, Ligue 1’s top striker for champions Montpellier, has made a grave error by choosing to ply his trade for us? Have these two players committed career suicide then when they decided to sign for us, a club which Robin now deems as not matching his ambition in moving forward? Since when is a player able to dictate how the club should move? Sheer nonsense bullshit bollocks.

I can understand if Cesc said that Arsenal were not matching his standards and ambitions because we weren’t. Not when we made him play with the likes of Denilson and Eboue etc. But for Robin (who not too long ago donned a Number 1 Fan jersey) to say that, when he has seen the intent exhibited by signing those two players, is just unacceptable. His statement spoke volumes about the character we suddenly find ourselves discovering and not at all acceptable for a captain of Arsenal.

It was also the way he delivered the statement, stunning the club and fans with disbelief, and the words used in the statement. It was in the timing of the statement: a mere few hours since Podolski put pen to paper and visited Ashburton Grove and a mere few hours before Usmanov decided to make public his dissatisfaction with the board. It was the petty attack on the manager, the club and the Chief Executive that made the whole thing even more deplorable. So please do not insult our intelligence, Robin. The only stupid actions I will now plead guilty to are to have thought you were a great leader and captain for the club; to have believed you would be the one who will help drive us forward; and to have reasoned that for all the prolonged contract talk, you’d stay. Just as we stayed and stood by your side and supported you when you were injured every time in all those years.

Like I said, players come and players go. I’m sorry, I’m not charitable enough to still like and respect you. Once a player decides to leave, well, that’s it for me. Out of sight, out of mind. Titi is slightly different because he still keeps in touch and he came back to play for us, didn’t he. Heck, even Cesc is slowly but surely slipping out of my mind. There, I’ve said it. Hey, don’t blame me. It’s not me who decided to leave this relationship. It’s them who couldn’t wait to go to fresh new pastures and ‘new challenges’. And hey Cesc, whatever are you doing with a wench just a few years younger than your mum? Bad taste, Cesc, bad taste. But then again, I should have known someone who has Pique as best friend would have bad taste. Anyway, I digress.

So shoo off already, Robin, go and fly kite. I don’t care to see you in the red and white if you don’t want or don’t care to be here with us. I don’t want a player who’s unhappy playing for us. I don’t want a player who’s not strong enough to be an Arsenal player and captain. The club is bigger than any one of you anyway and is the only one which will stay. Besides, it’s Arsenal that I love above all individual players. The sun will still shine tomorrow, the club will still be there, the ship will still be sailing.

As you can see, I’m already in Stage 5 of acceptance. Of ‘whatever’. If your intention is to burn your bridge with us fans, then congratulations. You’ve achieved it and more. If you want to leave the greatest team the world has ever seen and be a part of us no more, then get lost already. After all, it’s Arsenal which gave you the opportunity to win those awards you did last season. One injury-free season does not mean you'll continue uninjured and healthy henceforth. If you think so, you're mad.

Of course if you go to another club outside the Premier League, I will not hate you as much. So if you ever felt any emotion to Arsenal or us the fans, go anywhere as long as it’s not to another Premier League club. Otherwise, you’ll just prove you’re no different to Petite Pute when it comes to earning a shit-load of money.

At the end of the day, I still have my Arsenal. The greatest team the world has ever seen. Greater, bigger and better than any one individual player.

June/July Road Trip

Abah had suggested that we go on a trip to celebrate the birthdays of the July girls (my sister, my niece and myself). The options were either last weekend or the 14 July weekend but as Akak was visiting la niña at her boarding school last weekend and taking her for an overnight outing, it was decided that our birthday outing would be then instead of the latter. I had to go back to micasa to complete some chores so I told them I’d take the bus to meet them.

Left micasa after 10 am on Saturday and headed for Pudu Sentral. It had been simply ages since my last visit there; I probably last visited it during my school days when I had to take a bus back from Seremban on one of those rare bus trips back. I didn’t feel Pudu Raya (as it was then known) was a safe place and a bit apprehensive about this visit too.

Well, I needn’t have worried too much. It wasn’t anywhere as impressive as the South Integrated Terminal but it’s an improvement. There were still touts there, approaching passengers and enquiring their destinations. I followed the directions for the ticket counter on the first floor and browsed the various counters before buying my ticket.

The bus was scheduled to depart at 1145 but we only pulled out at 1215. I don’t understand why it couldn’t leave on time like the buses heading south. The bus itself wasn’t too bad. We stopped at a small R&R for washroom break before resuming our journey. It was almost 4 pm before we exited the highway at Changkat Jering. I got down at Kamunting Raya bus station and waited for Akak to come fetch me. There were some detours and pitstops before we got to our hotel: to taste some durian and then get some capati/tosai for tea.

Our fourth floor adjoining rooms faced the pool and the setting afternoon sun so it was pretty noisy with the sound of those at the pool and warm from the sun. It was a bright, hot, sunny scorching day that I stayed in until 1845 before venturing out. I went for a walk to the nearby Taiping Golf Resort before returning back. Turned out my niece and nephew had followed me too so we walked back together.

We went out to the small town for dinner at Restoran Selera Malam Terminal (one of the three branches of Selera Malam restaurants and probably so named as it’s quite close to the bus station). Dinner was good and highly recommended.

After dinner, we decided to check out the night market. I hadn’t been to one in simply ages. It was getting late so some stalls were already packing up their goods. Food stuff is still cheap in this part of the country. We then returned to the hotel to retire for the day.

On Sunday, Abah, my niece, el niño and myself went for breakfast at the restaurant overlooking the golf course. Akak, my brother-in-law and la niña drove to get breakfast at a small restaurant.

El niño and niece wanted to swim in the pool before leaving so we had to wait until they had their fill in the pool. We left just before 12 noon and drove along the country road to Lenggong. Lunch was had at the only restaurant near la niña’s school. We left Lenggong at almost 4 pm and drove back, stopping en route to get more durians to bring back to KL. Indeed, there were many sellers along the road selling durian and we saw one durian tree, heavily laden with the king of fruits. Dozens of them hanging from its branches tempting us from afar...

We had an early dinner before heading to Akak’s. Abah and I left at 8.30 pm and reached home at 9.15 pm. It was a tiring but satisfying weekend.